


sweet

by letthesongtakeflight



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 50 Ironwidow Kisses, 50 Kinds of Kisses, Baking, Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, IronWidow - Freeform, Kissing Prompt, Rated T for F bombs, Tony cooks and bakes bc it's science, Tonynat, house husband Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:42:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24303856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letthesongtakeflight/pseuds/letthesongtakeflight
Summary: Natasha has a bad day at work and Tony knows exactly how to cheer his girlfriend up. With cake.23. A kiss that tastes of the food/dessert they are eating
Relationships: Natasha Romanov/Tony Stark
Comments: 2
Kudos: 53
Collections: 50 Ironwidow Kisses





	sweet

Natasha got home later than she wanted to. When the meeting at SHIELD droned on with no end, she had texted Tony telling him not to wait for her for dinner. They didn’t always have dinner together, due to both of their work schedules, so this was nothing unusual. But still, Natasha had been looking forward to starting the weekend with one of her boyfriend’s home cooked meals.

She texted Tony when she was finally free. “On my way home. May and I would murder Coulson if he went on for any longer. Fuck the consequences."

When Natasha got back to their apartment in Avengers Tower, she was greeted by a delicious smell. She hoped that Tony wasn’t only just starting to cook, as it was late. He sometimes forgot his meals, though he had improved by miles since they first started dating. “Babe?” Natasha called through the empty apartment.

There was no reply, so she followed the sweet aroma to the open kitchen. Tony was standing at the sink with his back to her, washing the dishes. His headphones were in his ears and he hummed along to something jazzy under his breath.

On a good day Natasha would have wrapped her arms around him from behind or pecked his cheek. Tonight, however, she was too tired to do that. So she simply muttered a “hey,” as she sat down on one of the bar stools. 

Tony whirled around. “Hey! You’re home!” His face lit up in childlike glee. 

Natasha managed a smile for him. 

Tony’s forehead crinkled. “Rough day at work?”

Natasha leaned her elbows on the island counter and pressed the balls of her palms against her temples. “I just had Fury yell at me for two hours for fucking up a mission. That’s fine, I own my fuck-ups. But he seemed so intent on torturing me that he had Coulson debrief us for another three hours with this way-too-detailed plan and about a thousand follow-up items. It’s a slow, drawn out death.”

“Poor baby.” Tony came to stand behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and kneaded at the knots with deft fingers. Natasha groaned appreciatively as he rubbed the tension out of her shoulders. “I’d offer to talk to Fury but I don’t think it’s my place?” He made it a question.

Natasha tilted her head back to look at him. “That’s sweet, Tony, but no it’s not.”

“Okay.” Tony shrugged. “I figured as much. So I did the next best thing.” He flitted away from her. 

“Oh?” Dread pooled in Natasha’s stomach. Her boyfriend always meant well but didn’t always know where to draw the line. He forgot that there were some battles she had to fight on her own.

Tony bent down to the oven and pulled out a cake. “Cinnamon and apple,” he announced proudly. "Your favourite.”

Natasha smiled, relieved, and more than a little guilty for doubting him. He really did have the best intentions and, more often than not, helped while respecting her boundaries and her independence. She didn’t give him enough credit for that. 

“This is… perfect, Tony,” she said with rare unguardedness.

“It’s turned out so well, too,” Tony said with pure delight as he set the cake down in front of her. “Do you want dinner first or -“

“No, screw that.” Natasha cut him off. “I was just tortured for hours, and I had to miss our dinner. I deserve cake.” 

With a flourish, Tony presented her with a knife. “Will you do the honours?” He stood on the opposite side of the counter island from her, eagerly leaning his elbows on the surface. He was almost bouncing up and down with excitement.

Natasha took the knife he offered and sliced a healthy portion for herself. “You want?”

Tony waved his hand dismissively. “You go ahead,” he said, “I can take care of myself.”

Natasha didn’t need further encouragement to dig in. She groaned and closed her eyes to savour the flavour as it seeped into her taste buds – cinnamon first, sweet and enticing as it melted in her mouth, giving way to a rich appley undertone. “Sho ghood,” she managed to say when she could form words. 

“Or you’re just very hungry,” Tony teased. “Did you have lunch?”

“My line,” Natasha said. She was the one who had to remind him to eat, not the other way around. 

“That’s a no then.” Unfortunately for her, Tony knew her too well to know her deflective tactics. His gaze softened as he touched the underside of her jaw with the crook of his fingers, running over her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “You gotta take care of yourself.”

“Again, my line,” Natasha mumbled only half-heartedly and leaned into Tony’s touch.

Tony looked like he had half a mind to argue, but he saw the look of exhaustion in her eyes and knew not to push her. So he asked instead, “how’s the cake?”

“Amazing. As always.” She smiled. “This is so sweet, Tony.”

“What, do you mean that literally like the cake is sweet or –“ He was cut off when she pecked him on the lips.

Natasha pulled back to see Tony’s eyes opened in surprise, his eyebrows raised.

“Okay, you’re right,” he said when he recovered, blinking. "That is sweet." 

“Thank you,” Natasha said quietly.

A strange look flickered across his brown eyes, a surprised look, as though he didn’t understand or expect her thanks. He just nodded and smiled, a small, warm thing that made Natasha’s heart skip a beat. “Of course.” He leaned forward to kiss her again, but caught himself and stopped halfway. As though he wasn’t sure if it would be welcome. Natasha met his mouth with hers, and he sighed against her. His hand found hers, or hers found his, and their fingers intertwined on the countertop.

Tony chuckled when they parted, looking at her shyly from under his long lashes. “You taste good,” he said.

“Thanks,” Natasha said dryly, “It’s the cake."

“Maybe.” Tony cut himself a slice and sampled a bite. “Hmm.” He furrowed his brow in concentration. “Not sure if it’s the cake or if it’s you. Wanna help me prove it? You know “ – he raised his eyebrows cheekily – “for science."

Natasha rolled her eyes before she kissed him again. This time it was she who tasted on his tongue cinnamon and apple and sugar. They exchanged a few kisses, flavour passing between tongues and lips. It was familiar and exploring at the same time, seeking out each other but never pushing for more.

When Natasha ended the kiss, Tony’s eyes were fixed on her lips.

“So?” Natasha said, a little breathless. “What’s the conclusion?”

“Uh.” Tony’s eyes snapped up to meet hers. “Inconclusive. Leaning towards cake but also – you.” He blushed a little when he said it.

Natasha smiled, ducking her head. “I think the only thing we’ve proven is that you are extremely sweet and also cheesy.” 

“Like a cheesecake.” Tony sighed wistfully. “I don’t mind being a cheesecake. Hey!” He perked up. “Let’s make a cheesecake tomorrow.”

“Okay, chef,” Natasha promised. They ate the rest of their cake in comfortable silence, enjoying each other’s presence at the end of a long week. Natasha supposed that it wasn’t such a bad start to the weekend after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Not my best work but hey, at least it's sweet. Literally and figuratively. And also cheesy like Tony.
> 
> Hope you guys like it, please let me know...
> 
> Send me more ironwidow prompts on my tumblr @katebishopofearth


End file.
